I have spent a lot of time looking at pigs. They are decent creatures. They love a good wallow and enjoy their dinner. They have a certain charm that is totally absent in the average fascist.
Look at this pig in flight goggles. It is a better fashion choice than any fascist has ever managed. You are looking at a creature that is honest about its nature. A pig does not try to convince you it is the master of the universe. It does not sweat through a cheap suit while reciting hate-filled nonsense.
Fascism is just a massive, unwashed tantrum with a flag. It is the political equivalent of that guy at the pub. He thinks his opinion on the economy matters because he drank six pints of lager. Usually, that guy shuts up when you call out his rubbish. A fascist? They just double down.
They obsess over hierarchy, heritage, and “purity.” Yet, they have not had an original thought in centuries. It is a sad state of affairs when you choose between a literal pig and a fascist. But the choice is easy. The pig is reliable.
If a pig wants your potatoes, it just eats them. A fascist writes a long, boring manifesto. They claim your potatoes are part of a global conspiracy. Then, they try to start a revolution in your garden.
Here’s to the pig. It has better fashion, a better attitude, and a higher IQ. If the future offers a choice between wallowing in mud or wallowing in hatred, I will take the mud bath. You can wash that off, at least.
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